Keeper of the Light

“Did…had Olivia already told you that?”

“No. She’d told me you left her because you were in love with someone you couldn’t have. She never told me who it was.”

“Did she… What did she tell you? I mean, did she explain to you that it was just…”

“Relax.” He felt sorry for Paul. “She told me it was platonic, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Paul was quiet for a minute. “You were lucky to be married to her,” he said. “I’m jealous of you for that.”

“You have nothing to be jealous about. Olivia’s a wonderful person. She’s pulled my family back together.” He remembered Paul asking Olivia if she had slept with him. He hoped the question did not come up now.

“I don’t understand what got into her, with the stained glass and all,” Paul said. “That’s so unlike her. She really went off the deep end.”

“If you think she’s behaved strangely, maybe you need to take a look at yourself. You left her because you had a crush on a dead woman, for Christ’s sake.” He looked at the picture of Annie on the wall above his desk. She was sitting on a split rail fence, winking at him, grinning. “Have a little compassion, okay?” he continued. “Olivia was so upset when you walked out that she would have tried anything to get you back.”

Paul sighed. “I haven’t been able to get Annie out of my mind.”

“Annie’s dead, Paul, and I’m the widower. You have a wife who’s alive and beautiful and who still cares about you. You’re throwing away something that’s real for something that doesn’t exist.”

“I know that,” he said quietly.

He’d come to the S’s in his address book, and he let his fingers pause there, on Olivia’s name. “There’s something Olivia needs to tell you,” he said.

“What?”

“Just talk to her. Tomorrow.” He yawned, suddenly tired. “And by the way, don’t forget that Mary Poor’s giving you and Nola and me a tour of the keeper’s house Tuesday morning.”

“You still want me on the committee?”

“Of course.”

Paul hesitated. “Someone else could write up the part about the keeper’s house.”

“No one on the committee writes the way you do. I’ll see you about nine then?”

“All right.”

Alec was exhausted when he got off the phone. He fell into bed, but could not sleep. Olivia’s scent was still on him, and for some reason every time he closed his eyes he saw her in the emergency room, telling the man with the lacerated arm that the ER was not a McDonald’s. The memory made him laugh out loud.

He should never have gone to her house tonight. He knew what would happen—he’d intended it to happen. He hoped Olivia could have her soul-baring talk with Paul without throwing in that minor detail. It was one thing to covet a man’s wife; it was quite another to sleep with her.

He woke up tired in the morning, his sleep interrupted by nightmares about the lighthouse and fantasies of Olivia. He got out of bed and frowned into the bathroom mirror. It had been a while since he’d seen those dark circles around his eyes. He looked like someone out of a horror movie, someone haunted.

Downstairs, he took Annie’s tool case from the closet in the den and carried it into the kitchen, setting it by the back door. Then he poured himself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee.

He had to see the lighthouse today. He needed more pictures of it before they moved it, because once it was moved it wouldn’t be the same. The view would be different. The air around the gallery wouldn’t smell the same. It wouldn’t feel the same.

He opened the drawer next to the refrigerator and took out the stack of lighthouse pictures. It had been many weeks since he’d looked through them. He propped them up against his juice glass and sat down to eat.

“Dad?”

He looked up to see Lacey in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Hi, Lace,” he said.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. Why?”

“You look…I don’t know.” She sat down at the table and hugged her arms across her chest. Her eyes fell to the photographs on the table. “Why do you have them out?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, lifting the top picture, one he had taken from inside the lens itself. The landscape was upside down in the curved glass. “I was looking through them to see if I’ve missed anything. I want to make sure I’ve got every angle of it before they move it.”

Lacey scrunched up her face. “You have every possible angle anybody could ever have, Dad.”

Alec smiled. “Maybe.”

Lacey took an orange from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and began rolling it back and forth between her hands. “Do you want to do something today?” she asked.

He looked across the table at her, surprised. “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Anything. You can choose.”

“Do you want to go to the lighthouse with me?”